Reading Between the Lines
by T Rocket
Summary: After one late night drunken encounter that really shouldn't have been, IV and XI find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other. Could this lead to the revival of their lost hearts?
1. Chapter 1

It was a cold night that fell over the castle in the World that Never Was. But this was no surprise, as this world was draped in eternal night, and all of these intertwined and lasting nights were quite chilly indeed.

But as standard and repetitive as the night was, tonight was brewing trouble. And its name was Vexen.

A few circumstances had let up to this point in the night... This winter holiday season was fast approaching, and Lexaeus had been cooking up a storm for a few days now. The season may not have shown in weather, but it did in the habits of the castles inhabitants. They may not have been whole with all of the bells and whistles that came with having a heart, but their memories certainly demanded some compensation. Also, the normally well-minded Demyx had forgotten something of his in the kitchen; a music player, complete with earbuds. As well, after a long day with nose to the grindstone, Vexen had been drug aside by Lexaeus and Zexion--both of which were keen to loosen the man up, as a stressed and cranky Vexen was an especially deadly one.

So as it stood, somewhere are two am, with more than his fair share of spiked and spiced eggnog in his system, Vexen jacked the player and wandered out into the halls, drunk as Xigbar on New Years.

And that was quite drunk.

It was also under these circumstances that Vexen decided that it was quite alright to dance. He knew how, he just rarely did--as it wasn't a hobby he liked to upkeep in the presence of the others. And if one were close enough, you could hear him stumbling over lyrics, humming whatever he didn't know. The most of it--from his lips at least, sounds like a whole lot of "_hey hey you you I don't like your girlfriend_" over and over again.

Things had been going wonderfully for Number 11 as he relaxed after a long day. He had spent the evening leaned back in his favorite chair with a snifter of brandy and a book titled "Plants Are Still Like People" by one Jerry Baker as he hummed along with Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Afterwards, he had settled in for the night and was resting, snug in his bed.

That was, until Vexen went staggering down HIS hallway, drunk and singing Avril Lavigne, jarring the pink haired Organization member out of his sleep.

"Zzrk?!" Marly glared into the darkness, his hair sticking up awkwardly as he tried to locate the source of his annoyance. After realizing groggily that the perpetrator was in the hallway, he tossed the covers off and stormed to his door. Yanking the door open with a bang, he stormed after Vexen and clutched his hand in a fist in an attempt to keep from jerking the headsets from his superiors ears as he regained his composure.

Which was pretty difficult to do in pink, sakura petal footie pajamas, "Could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to get some sleep."

The music wasn't up very loud at all, so Vexen heard the grumpy Eleven quite easily. "Sleep is for the weak, Marluxia--" he slurred rather quickly, pointing an accusing finger at the other. "You wouldn't believe how little I get working my ass of to please you and the goddamn Superior and--" His rant cut off immediately and jarringly, like a kid flying over the handle bars of his bicycle. Vexen thereabout gave the save face as the aforementioned (and nonexistent) doomed child.

For a moment, he was silent--just staring the other down, wearing a mortified look of _Ohjesuswhatthehellisthat_. --and then he burst out laughing, loud enough he'd wake the whole castle if he wasn't careful.

"Homo!" he laughed, holding his stomach. "Those pajamas! Oh god--you're a--" he stopped again, wearing an expression of shock and revelation...then promptly burst into laughter again. "--but you're NOT! Don't you get it? It's a paradox! Homo--! You know! --like homo habilis! --or homo sapien! But we're NOBODIES, don't you get it?! You are, but you're not and--" The man was going to give himself a cramp from laughing so hard.

Marluxia took a step back, his face screwed up in a confused and disgusted expression at Vexen's outburst, "What are you babbling on abou-"

His face dropped into a blank mask as he slowly looked down at the aforementioned pajamas, and silently swore to himself, grabbing at it as he glanced away from Vexen, embarrassed by being seen in his unusual choice in sleep wear. He lowered his voice into a hiss, hunching over slightly as he looked around to make sure no one else was in the hallway, his face now tinted with panic, "For crying out loud, lower your voice! Do you want to wake the whole castle as well? Yes, I get it, we're Nothings, and you think my winter pajamas are funny. Woo, big laugh, hahahaha."

He turns to look down the hallway once again, paranoia creeping into his mind, "Now that you've had your laugh, could you go now?

"I'll lower my voice when you pull your head out of you--" he hiccuped, going cross-eyed for a moment. Oh--Vexen was going to regret all of this in the morning... He was a pompous ass, but he wasn't_ stupid_. He'd blame all this on Five and Six tomorrow--possibly give them more chores or something else menial like that. At the very least, it would give him time to sulk and hide in the lab, far far away from Marluxia and whatever wrath me might wish to bestow upon him.

"--you--you and your pink hair and flower petals--" Vexen ranted, an earbud fallen from his ear with the other balanced precariously with the other, certain to fall soon. "--and your flower petals and underlings and--and--EGO!" Vexen threw his hands in the air, ending on a shout. "--I don't understand you at all! --always smirking and plotting!"

And then came the unexpected.

"Why can't I be as popular as you?!"

It probably wasn't the correct word for it, but it came close. He'd always worked so hard to gain the admiration and respect of others...it never really worked, but he tried. And it always confounded him why so many other thought Marluxia was the greatest thing since sliced bread... It was just so infuriating!

Marluxia sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache built in his skull – He truly did not want to suffer a drunk, "Maybe it's because you try too hard. Ever thought of that?" He straightened up, his expression cold, "You spend so much of your time in that hole and being… You… When you aren't in hiding, that it's a surprise anyone even knows you exist.

"I on the other hand.." Number Eleven smirked, chuckling, "I spend much of my time out where they can readily get a hold of me without getting threatened by a sleep deprived troll. Now, speaking of sleep, I'm going back to bed."

He waves his hand flippantly, shooing his superior away like he was fanning a flame, "Go back to your cave and ask that again when you're sober. And bathe first, you smell like a brewery.

Now sadly, a sober Vexen would have as much of a comeback to that one as a drunken one. The man was not witty. He was snappy and easily angered, though luckily, liquor seemed to dull that down a bit.

Narrowing his eyes at the other, Vexen straightened up a bit--as if to try and seem more sober (which he was not), and only succeeded in gaining his height back against the other. He was taller, wasn't he? "You...your father was the Cheshire Cat, wasn't he?" Vexen said, scowling. "Smirking...dirty son of a--" he sneezed and left it at that, turning swifting on the heel of his boot (and nearly tripping and tumbling headlong into a wall) and left.

Vexen indeed got his shower that late night, and passed out somewhere later, deep within the library, sprawled out on a couch, wrapped up in a fluffy bathrobe...

"Early" the next morning, a certain pink haired member of the organization stepped lightly into the library, setting a dark object onto a table near the sleeping Vexen with a click. Putting on a set of earmuffs, Marluxia aimed the boom box towards Vexen, attaching two extra speakers to it and setting them up on either side of his head, careful not to wake the scientist. He then left the room and returned with a floor lamp with a swivel neck, plugging it in.

Turning the light on, he smiled softly as he stood beside it, looking like the cat that ate the canary, and used a remote control to click the boombox on.

**-BADADA BADA DA DA DAAAAA!-**

Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, starting two thirds of the way through, played at full blast over all speakers with a mighty flare of horns and cannon fire, and Number Eleven turned the light to glare into Vexen's face, a broad grin plastered on his face, "HAPPY HANGOVER, VEXY! TIME TO WAKE UP, SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK, ISN'T IT!?!"

Marluxia, bitter? Neeever.

Sleep was a happy place--a calm and serene place...only disrupted by a slowing mounting pain right behind the eyes. And that would be the hangover slipping in. Vexen groaned and shifted a bit where he lay on the couch. What started as a light sting was slowly turning into a dull throb.

Ow.

--it also didn't help that he could hear something shuffling about in the room. He gave a grunt and curled up. He honestly didn't want to wake up. He had already begun to ache, and now-- -**BADADA BADA DA DA DAAAAA!**-

--the fanfare. For the first time in his life, Vexen found himself damning the Anvil Chorus of the 1812 Overture. Yes. Damn it to hell.

But on cue of the lights and music and screaming, Vexen screamed right back, hands flying up, trying to block out that horrible light and oh god his headache was threatening to split him in two and--

**THUMP**.

In his flailing, Vexen tumbled off the couch. "MARLUXIA!" he howled. "I will KILL you!"

Marluxia clicked the speakers off with the remote, sending a sudden hush through the library, the only sound that of Vexen's pained shouts. Waiting for the threat to fade into the muffled silence of the library, Marluxia tossed the remote control to Vexen, it thumping softly against the scientists chest, "Well, that was entertaining. Next time you're drunk, avoid my hallway and I won't have the need to do something like this again. Enjoy your new boombox, I have no more use for it now... Maybe you can now sing along with your music in your own damn room rather then outside my door in the middle of the night."

He lifted the lamp from the floor and rested it over one shoulder, his eyes hard, and then he shrugged, turning away with a flutter of sakura blossoms.

Vexen seethed and glared so strongly, you'd think his demeanor enough could cause the next ice age. But he held his tongue and let the other leave in his flurry of flowers and...ick...Marluxia-ness. And while he stood there in a growling, unhappy mess, Vexen realized something; Marluxia really had left the boombox behind.

--so he hoarded it back to his lab, stuck a classical CD in, and went to find one of his higher-sentient experiments for a game of chess to calm his nerves. He'd find some subtle way to get back at Marluxia later.


	2. Chapter 2

Marluxia wandered through the halls, humming a song lightly under his breath, barely breathing the words to the song that was oh so familiar to him for some reason, despite its nonsensical words.

"...- gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. " He continued with a few chuckling bits of the melody before taking a sip of his coffee, which was milky from the amounts of Hazelnut creamer he had added to the brew. He walked slowly as he approached on of the castles many doors when he realized he had wandered close to Vexen's lab. He paused in front of the closed door, his expression bemused as the gears in his mind ticked away. A broad grin crossed his face and he reached into his pocket. With the item from it in hand, he stretched upward and tacked a small bit of bound mistletoe on the doorframe. He seriously hoped he got stuck with someone drunk enough to follow through with the tradition. If only he had someplace to hide a camera, just in case.

He stepped back to study his work and chuckled, then began to wander back down the hallway, taking a large swig out of his coffee.

Meanwhile, as the Assassin had set up his yuletide trap, a certain fire elemental portaled into Marluxia's private quarters. He and number nine had decided to go on a poorly timed crime spree, which targeted not only Eleven, but their Gambler of Fate, Luxord.

Axel paused as he looked around the room – it was surprisingly bare of plants, the scythe bearer opting instead for an orderly room of the basic white marble and rich green silk. Plants were involved, but all were wood, stone, metal and enamel, that decorated the furniture and fabric with golden vines and crimson blossoms.

He shook himself out of the shock and crept further into the room to search for his prize. Axel grinned during and slipped a small bottle of blue dye from his pocket, "Let's see…" Eight carefully stepped around the large metal desk bolted to the floor as he remembered the story Xigbar related of how Marluxia appeared almost instantly after touching it, knowing that number Two had been poking through its drawers.

While it tempted him, there was something off with it and he did not need to alert Eleven of his involvement in the prank he was about to pull, _If I was Marluxia, where would I keep- ah…_

He turned the Rose-shaped handle of a mirrored cabinet and opened it wide, Axel grinned, "Jackpot…" He carefully picked up the bottle of shampoo and spun the lid open before he bit the lid off of the dropper of dye. He worked carefully, mixing it in and checking to make sure the color changing dye would not be noticed until after Marluxia's hair was a lovely shade of purple.

"I'll be sure to get your report redlined and presentable before you turn it over to the Superior. You really need to work on your spelling, Larxene."

Axel flinched as he heard the rooms owner just outside the room talking to his favorite underling, quickly putting the shampoo back into the cabinet and he pushed the door closed as he portaled away.

Marluxia sighed softly as he entered his room, letting the door click shut. However, as he looked up into his room, he felt a twinge over his left brow.

Something was off. He didn't know what, but something was wrong with his room. He slowly stalked around the room, his eyes narrowed, "What is it.. Something's out of place..." His eyes fell upon his cabinet, and they narrow quickly -- The door was slightly ajar, held open by the spindle. He threw the door open, looking over the contents with a low growl.

The man, in his paranoia (stemming from early on in the organization when he discovered locks were of no use in the Castle that Never Was) had become OCD about his room, weary for anyone possibly trying to find out information on him that would give them an advantage to get through the ranks, to get rid of him. He was either in the way or a threat to everyone, despite the many masks he wore. While he kept from showing it, Number eleven was in a constant state of fear.

After he'd looted through his supplies of soaps, strangely musky body sprays and deodorants, creams, and so on, he eventually inspected his shampoo, squirting a small dab onto a finger.

He frowned slightly - it didn't SEEM to look too different. He rubbed it between his fingers and snarled like a wild animal as the blue color of the dye begins to stain on his skin, his mind automatically bringing up the prime suspect in his mind, despite it being a swing and a miss, "...Vexen..."

He felt he had enough evidence and stormed out of his room, slamming the door behind him, the shampoo clutched in his hand as if it were a grenade.

Axel definitely got off easy this time.. At least, unless the Graceful Assassin figured out the truth.

Number Eleven stormed down the hallway he had wandered through earlier that day, and began to bang on the door of Vexen's laboratory, already forgotten completely about the mistletoe booby-trap he had left just that morning over the door frame.

"VEXEN! I know you're the one that did this! WELL IT DIDN'T WORK! AND STAY OUT OF MY ROOM! WHAT--" He kicked the door once before backing up a step, taking a deep breath to calm himself down, "What were you thinking, putting BLUE DYE into my shampoo?! And going into my ROOM of all things?!" He banged on the door again, finding himself getting worked up again, "Don't make me come in there, because if you force my hand I will SO use this on your own hair and see how you like it."

Having fragile and time-sensitive experiments interrupted were one of the best ways to cheese-off Vexen. And thus, when Marly came pounding at his door, Vexen was more than eager to reciprocate the attitude...

"Would you SHUT UP?!" he howled as he swung the door open abruptly. He flipped up his...welding visor? --it was probably best not to ask--and glared harshly at the other. "I have been in my lab ALL night and ALL morning!" he shouted, matching Marluxia's volume with his own. "The Superior himself was even here not so long ago checking in! Ask him yourself! I've got better things to do than fool with your toiletries!"

"That doesn't mean anything!" Marluxia snarled, his eyes wild and his expression almost feral, "You could have just sent one of your replicas to do your dirty work for you." His eyes tighten as he once again settles back to control himself. With vis voice low and calculated, a tremor of anger bristled through his body, his fury fighting against his restriction of it, "And this isn't about the damn dye in my shampoo. I've avoided entering your domain unless I was sent to fetch you, but apparently you don't have the same respect for ones personal domain as I do. But if I ever find out either you, or one of your... Toys... Have entered my room again, I swear to Darkness you will pay for it dearly."

Marluxia panted slightly after his rant, visibly shaken by the whole series of events. His room, oh his room. It was his place of safety, and SOMEONE had broken into it and tried to booby-trap him. His biggest fear had come true in small way, and Vexen's lack of response had sowed seeds of doubt into his brain. He was wrapped around this axel, not knowing it was BECAUSE of their Axel. He had not been so terrified in a very long time, and his eyes had begun to show it as his voice weakened softly.

Vexen hadn't done a damn thing. He hadn't mucked with Marluxia's things, nor had he even entered Marluxia's room! So at the most, the Graceful Assassin received no expression more than a flat and unamused stare. Vexen let the other finish out his useless tirade, speaking up only after Marluxia had quieted.

"Is that all?" he replied, stepped forward with arms crossed, directly under the mistletoe. "If you're finished, then move along. I've got nothing to say to you, so if you would--" Vexen leaned forward, dipping down to match the other's height and kissing the tip of his nose. "get out. Now move--before I play the wasp defending the hive, and send out my real replicas."

"If it wasn't you then --" Eleven got cut off as Vexen kissed the tip of his nose, the shampoo slipping from his fingers. He froze, his eyes became haunted and blank, his jaw clenched. His body then blurred, with his clenched fist stopped just short of Vexen's nose, before it flicked upwards to grab the mistletoe violently from the doorframe, his glare venomous, "I'm. Not. In. Your. Damn. Lab. FAG."

He threw the mistletoe violently onto the floor and portaled away, headed to his Garden, his only remaining sanctuary from the others.

Marluxia stormed through the leaves after his encounter with Vexen, he soon found himself deep in the jungle of the greenhouse, looking around to make sure that no one was hiding. Finally, positive he was alone, he fell to his knees and howled, doubled over as he screwed his face up in agony. He felt unclean, Unstable, violated.

_AAAARGH! How COULD HE?! The BASTARD! First my room! THEN he actually tricked me into doubting myself! And then... He must have known I was the one that did the mistletoe over his door and just DID THIS TO SET ME UP_, Marluxia writhed, rolling splayed onto his back, his back arched as he covered his eyes with his hands, keening like an animal caught in a snare, _I underestimated him and fell right into his trap. I won't let it happen again. I CAN'T let it happen again._

He finally dropped his hands and stared blankly into the shifting canopy above his head. Minutes passed by in silence before he let out a long, slow sigh, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, breathing in the deep, rich scent of earth.

It was shock. Pure, unadulterated shock! How dare the man--really, HOW DARE the man suggest that Vexen was juvenile enough to do such a thing as sabotage his shampoo with hair dye! (Though it seemed that another had been struck by this sort of prank as well, as Luxord came around the castle sporting bright green hair.) How DARE Marluxia call him a fag! Really-- Vexen thought. The man should look in a goddamn mirror!!

But as Vexen was a bitter, vindictive man--instead of letting things fall as they should, he felt that for Marluxia's disrespect and impudence, he would pay. Not with physical pain however, but with mental anguish. The underground members...Vexen, Lexeaus, and Zexion had long suspected that Marluxia would soon lead a coup de tat against the Superior and the rest of the organization... But with Marluxia acting so...edgy about a simple childish prank...well...he was either extremely OCD in general, paranoid about said coup, or perhaps even a little of both...

Regardless, Vexen was going to have a bit of run at the man's expense.

It was easy enough to sneak in and deposit the new item. But to take one in its stead...hmm...what to take...? Vexen decided on Marluxia's hairbrushes. All of them. He buried them in the man's own garden. It was bound to get a lovely reaction.

Left behind though, was a chair...Just a normal wooden dinette set chair…Which was left upright on Marluxia's bed.

Slowly the next day Marluxia awoke from the comfort of his Garden, slow to rise up, wearing a worn expression. He was exhausted despite being surprisingly comfortable sleeping on the ground, as nightmares plagued him throughout the night. Soon, he trudged his way through the jungle, feeling a little better as he passed the plants, _At least I still have my garden.. And I can just get new shamp—_

He paused as he neared the door of the greenhouse, his hand hovered over the handle. Slowly he turned towards a rather large pile of freshly dug dirt and fell to his knees, digging violently at the spot.

Brushes. HIS brushes. Hairbrushes he knew had been in his room the last time he had been in it.

To him it was a message: "I know exactly where you are and I can get you whenever I wish"

Marluxia's raised a hand to his throat, rubbing it softly as an echo of a long repressed memory flickered back into his mind. Panic reset into his mind, and he ported to his room, where he was greeted with the sight of the chair.

A few hours later, Marluxia stood panting heavily in the center of his now extremely messy room, having torn it apart in search for ANYTHING else that could have been added to his room. He fell to his knees and shuddered violently as he covered his face, keening in frustration. Someone was playing mind games with him, and he was waiting for the axe to fall.

It had been a rough week for Number Eleven so far - First, a Drunken Vexen awoke him early one night, then he had to deal with Namine being more rebellious. But on Day three, things that were more then minor annoyances began to happen.

Someone had broken into his room and "booby trapped" One of his bottles of shampoo with blue dye. Marluxia had spotted the trap before it could turn his hair purple, but the risk of his hair being changed was NOT what had him so wound up. Oh no, it was the fact that someone had been IN HIS ROOM that was the problem. And then, knowing that Vexen was a vindictive man and likely still upset with the wake up call he got from his hang over -- you'd THINK he'd be glad he at least got a boom box out of the event -- Marluxia assumed that it was the Scientist that had done the prank. However, all that came out of their encounter was Number Eleven temporarily losing faith in his own thoughts, and then being humiliated by number Four.

But, it got worse. Earlier that morning, after taking sanctuary in his greenhouse to escape, he had found that, while he was there, his hairbrushes had been buried in the ground, and that his room had been violated again, ending with Marluxia tearing his room apart looking for possible booby traps and bugs. Both of his safe houses had been violated, and in his mind the message was that someone was out to get him.

The result was the Graceful Assassin was a bundle of nerves as he wandered through the halls, twitching as he clutched the offending wooden chair, looking lost as he tried to find out where the chair came from.

However, having not encountered anyone during his wandering, Marluxia found himself collecting his mind, and once more found himself once more in front of Vexen's doorway. He had not seen any place in the castle with a chair that matched the one placed on his room. He had nothing to back himself up except for a gut feeling.

He was no longer sure it had been Vexen the first time, but after how they parted ways the night before, it wouldn't be above the scientist's nature to rub salt in the wound.

He set the chair up against the doorframe, its back under the handle, he left silently -- he had cleaning to do, and a trap to set.

After so many hours of nose-to-the-grindstone, Vexen decided he might as well stretch his legs and get out. Now, this was very new and different for him, as Vexen normally spent spans of whole days locked away working. But now, he figured that if he was seen out more, he might be considered less of a ...troll.

Only when he tried to open the door to leave, he found himself...unable to. He jiggled the handle once. Paused and blinked--then tried again, only to yield the same results.

His door was stuck.

"Damnit--" he hissed, giving the door a kick. "What in darkness' name is going on?!" So Vexen simply ported out into the hall--wherein he found a chair. But not just ANY CHAIR--no, it was the chair he'd left on Marluxia's bed. But despite it's eventual return, he gave the thing an angry kick, popping it out from under the handle, to topple sideways on the hall floor.

As nice as it was to see a return (he did like his furniture), it had become a return-prank as well. Damnit.

Marluxia turned from his escape as the door rattled, Hmmn, that's odd, I would have thought it would have taken longer for him to try and leave...

He leaned against a column casually, out of the view of Vexen's doorway. As the door clattered down the hallway, Marluxia slides around the column in a fluid motion, still leaning against it, his arms crossed as he smiled softly, one leg crossed over the other, "That's what you get for leaving it on my bed, Vexen."

Vexen's head snapped towards the direction of the voice. It's none other than Marluxia. He bristled, hands clenched at his sides. "What the hell are you talking about?! " he snapped, immediately covering his tracks. He knew full well it was his chair--he'd put it in Marluxia's room himself. ...but he knew better than to say that in the presence of the other.

Number Eleven sigh and cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raise with distain dripping in his voice, "... I hate you so much right now, you know that right?" He stepped away from the column, his eyes locked to Vexen's, watching for any clues on his face.

With breathes forced even again, trying to calm down, Vexen gave his reply. "The feeling is mutual, but--" he gave an annoyed sigh, "--what the hell are you going on about with chairs?"

Marluxia snarled slightly, but walked towards Vexen, waving a hand as he walk past him and spoke as if he were telling a child a story, "After I left here last night I went to my garden to.. Recollect myself... And when I started on my way out, what did I find but freshly dug earth... And all of my Hairbrushes. And in my room was THAT chair. Right on my bed!"

He turned his head to look at Number Four over his shoulder, "I may no longer sure you were the one that dyed the shampoo, But I am POSITIVE you were the one that did this act."

"Mmm hm..." Vexen did not look convinced, though ded look a bit annoyed at the accusation. His poker face was getting better. "And...what evidence do you have that I was behind this? What sort of satisfaction am I supposed to get from any of this, if all I get from it is you locking my into my lab with chairs?"

Marluxia turned to face the older Member, "The fact you know it bothers me." His eyes narrowed as he leaned back slightly, his expression disdainful, "You're a vindictive bastard and don't like having fingers pointed in your face. You did it simply to try and prove a point."

"So does half the castle--Xigbar in particular." He said as he crossed his arms over his chest, hips tilted slightly to the side, giving him the appearance of the woman who -knew- she was right. "And the only reason I know is because half the castle is talking about your behavior as of late--particularly the part about the noise you made tearing your room apart and dragging said chair around in a daze. The Superior's going to think you're crazy if you don't straighten up."

Marluxia's glare deepened, then softened again as he smirked, looking cocky, "Ah, but there's the catch -- your the only one that knew it bothered me BEFORE This last incident."

"Knew what?" He scoffed, a smirk sneaking out upon his lips. "Your little OCD spats? No--I'm sorry. That's common knowledge, only spoken about very little."

Eleven frowned softly, curiosity flickering across his face like candlelight, "Before the hair dye incident, when have I ever had an "OCD spat"? Hmm?"

Vexen gave a shrug," You'd be surprised. I've heard Larxene more than once behind your back about how nitpicky you are when things get moved around in your room."

Marluxia chuckled and his eyes flashed momentarily, feeling as if victory was in sight, "That's where your wrong – It's not about people moving things in my room. You're bluffing."

Vexen's heart skipped, the worry almost unreadable in his eyes. He gives another nonchalant shrug. "All I've heard is that things moved about makes you twitchy. Other than that--I've no idea what you're talking about. And recall, Marluxia--an innocent man has nothing to bluff over. I'm only telling you what I know."

Marluxia's eyes searched Vexen's, unbothered by looking directly into another's eyes - He was back in his zone. A Smirk crosses his face and his eyes light up slightly, "So you say... Good day, Vexen... We'll be seeing each other again real soon..."

Vexen narrowed his eyes, meeting Marluxia stare for stare. "I would have rather hoped we not, but ask and you shall receive. I'll be waiting. Eleven."

Marluxia nods in a slight bow, "I'm sure you will be." With that, he ported away to his garden, feeling surprisingly good about everything in general. He put on his sunhat and clapped his hands together before pulling out a bucket of piece parts from a cooler to go and feed his meat eaters.


	3. Chapter 3

"The sexual tension's so thick, you could cut it with a blunt stick! C'mon. Screw already."

Marluxia's head jerked up from the report he was looking over as he walked down a hall and glanced up to Xigbar--up on the ceiling. "Excuse me?"

"Dude, no shame. Just stick it in already. everybody already knows you and Vexen all like...secretly gay for each other." Xigbar flipped over, landing on the floor beside number Eleven.

"Maybe it is for him..." Marluxia smirked slightly at the freeshooter, "However the feeling's not mutual."

"Eh-- Just keep tellin' yourself that, man." Xigbar gave a shrug, grinning. "Even still, you guys need to get over yourselves and fuck. Don't knock it 'til you've tried, it, dude."

Marluxia's expression fell flat, then quickly shifted to a sly smirk, his voice rich with playful teasing, "Ah, you just want us to do it so you can watch, mmn? Or maybe Luxord talked you into selling a tape of us for a little extra pocket money."

"Not really, dude. Just a friendly suggestion. S'my job to make sure people around here don't go batshit crazy." --which it wasn't. But he liked to think that it was. It gave him the jurisdiction to bug people more than he already did. "Plus, Luxord's busy enough as it is between Port Royal and Nine to want to videotape you and Ice Princess playing doctor between the sheets."

Vexen had been minding his own business, striding through one of the main halls, somewhere thereabouts of the fourth floor. He'd been on his way to show the Superior his new findings in darkness manipulation and replication when he'd heard voices ahead, just around a corner. Now, in any other situation, Vexen would have proceeded onward. Only this time...he heard his name (or something resembling).

Vexen hid himself along a wall behind a column, sneaking along, using the others as a shield from the sight of the two speakers. With a wide column separating him from the conversation, he eavesdropped with relative ease.

Marluxia chuckled softly, putting his hand on Xigbar's shoulder, "I was joking."

Marluxia? Vexen pressed his back a little firmer against the column.

"--but anyway, I wouldn't have any problem with number four if he wouldn't keep finding ways to torment me. It seems every time I get to the point of just letting things be and recover, something new happens in an endless cycle. Besides, he's not my type."

Xigbar elbowed the other playfully. "C'mon--" For Vexen, this voice was obviously Xigbar's. The accent was impossible to misplace. "Flowers and formaldehyde! It's a match made in heaven!"

"Flowers and... Seriously Xigbar, that the best you can come up with?" Number eleven grinned broadly, punching the other lightly on the shoulder, seeming to be dropping his guard, though in his mind was still leery of him -- despite knowing it had to have been Vexen the second time, the other members were still a possibility for the invasion in the first instance. And now? Now he was gathering information, "And just how are Flowers and Formaldehyde a match made in heaven now?"

"Hell if I fuckin know." he laughed. "It sounded good--alliteration and all that kinda shit." Xigbar said, waving a hand around. "Xaldin's the planner. I shoot as I go. But hey--makes things less predictable and more fun, eh?"

Marluxia snorted in laughter, "If you say so, Number Two. But if your going to try and play match maker, you'll need a little more evidence then just Flowers and Formaldehyde sounding good together."

"Eh, I'd give you the full story--" he said, a devious glint in his visible eye. "--but that'd ruin the whole fun in getting there, right? I can't just put it all out in the open for you. Whatever happened to the love of the chase?"

Marluxia raised a single eyebrow, smirking, "I think somewhere between his waking me up at two am, singing drunkenly outside my room and him burying my hairbrushes in the garden."

"Your hairbrushes, huh? Bummer, man. But me--if I were you, I'd think all that shit as like...you know how on playgrounds little bratty boys'll throw dirt and poke the girls with sticks 'cause they like em? Yeah--it's sorta like that." he said with a nod, looking quite sure of himself. But unlike Vexen, Xigbar was indeed the opportunist, and as far as attraction went--it sometimes skewed the way he saw things.

Shaking his head, Marluxia points at the center of Xigbar's forehead with a chuckle, "If that's the case then he's the one you should be telling to lighten up and think about it." He laughs, "And just keep him from constantly being on my case about things and I'm sure I will be able to settle back into being able to.. Hmn... Respect him, I guess."

Vexen couldn't breath. His heart pounded, body frozen to the spot. Marluxia had...respected him?

"Nn nn--" Xigbar shook his head. "Man, I'm just the messenger. Gotta put you kids on the right track. Like I said--you two do the leg work. Makes the reward all that sweeter. Trust me, dude. Okay?" Now, contrary to popular belief, sometimes, Xigbar actually knew what the fuck he was talking about. And for this particular instance, he was dead on. --at least about the 'do it the fuck yourself' part. The part about Vexen playing schoolboy-crush...the jury was still out for that one.

Marluxia waved a hand as he walked, still chuckling at the very idea, "Sure, whatever, Xigbar. Maybe the next time."

It was impossible for Vexen to concentrate--not with yesterday's words hanging over him... He'd taken multiple breaks already, pacing, reading, and now--snacking. In the kitchen, Vexen had fixed himself a mug of hot tea and a sandwich, in hopes that it would settle his stomach and his nerves.

Respect...Marluxias had respected him...and now it's lost it all...oh--this was just--! --it all just made for one very distraught Vexen.

Elsewhere, Marluxia grumbled under his breath and scratched wildly at his head, his voice muttering softly as he wandered through the halls, "Was Xigbar even thinking earlier? Seriously, "Flowers and.. Ugh."

Despite his calm and collected departure, it had gotten to him, and was making him as skittish as a long tailed cat at a rocking chair factory, What if Vexen is REALLY doing this because of some sort of... Childish... Crush? Ugh, best not to think of it.

He took a deep breath, returning to his normal bored expression before turning the corner as he headed for the kitchen.

At the same time, Vexen turned to leave out of the kitchen, and found that running into people also made for a very distraught Vexen--or at the very least, an angry one. Luckily though, he didn't drop his mug--though his sandwich hit the floor when his hand went to his nose...

"Ah! That HURT! Watch where you're going!"

Marluxia took a stumble back, his hand going to his eye with a hiss, his forehead red and sore under his bangs from the good knock he got, "Same goes to you..."

He froze as he recognized the voice, and blinked the pain away, trying to remain calm as he stood up straight, his eye watering and red from the poke the Frigid number Fours nose, "Ah... Vexen..."

What does one say to a man your superior insists is trying to get into your pants?

And Vexen fumbled, his mug dropping as well, splashing the front of the other's coat quite nicely with the hot liquid. "Eleven!" The mug shattered upon impact, shards skidding across the floor. Vexen backpedaled a step, a corner of his lips drawing back into a worried grin. "Ah--what are you doing here, Eleven? Shouldn't you, ah--be on patrol now?"

Marluxia backpedaled quickly, pottery crunching under his boots as he brushed the hot liquid from his front before it could seep in through the zipper, actually grateful for the distraction, "Four... I understand we don't--" He looked up and froze once more as his gaze hit the other mans face.

The flushing. The stuttering. The heavy cloud of pure and untainted AWKWARD that coated the entire moment. Number Eleven's face fell slightly, his eyes wide, _Oooooooooooooooh crap. Xigbar was right... He's... Vexen. Schoolyard. Poking. Crush. Aaah, what do I do?!_

The Graceful Assassin turned quickly away from Vexen and cleared his throat, making it deepen, ignoring his stomach's pleading for food, "I am supposed to be heading out in a few minutes... But I should get it done early."

Vexen was stuck there for a moment amongst the broken shards of mug, the forgotten sandwich, and the mess of tea--his feet utterly uncooperative. A minute passed, then two.

Panicked, Marluxia quickly portaled away from the big garbled mess, his heart thudding in his throat like a caged beast struggling to claw its way free.

Marluxia had been right there...and he hadn't been able to say a thing.

It was immediate frustration that stormed Vexen out of the room, hands clenched into fists. It was anger, bubbling from the inside out that froze Demyx to the wall as he passed the Neophyte by in the halls. And it was desperation that locked him in his labs to work with a renewed fervor. Hour and hours--days even. No one saw the man. Not Zexion. Not Lexaeus. No one.

"He'll respect me!" Vexen laughed sharply, a spark in madness seeded in his bright green eyes. "I'll come up with something so utterly brilliant, he'll have to recognize me again!"

But things...were not looking up. Of all things desperation would drive a man to nothing good. In fact, the only thing he was getting was wore down, exhausted...and prone to make mistakes.

Things would not go well...

Things had not been going well at all for the fourth member of the organization. Overworked and under-rested, the disaster which was so obvious to occur...did. A replication experiment with the heartless went awry, and they all broke out, freeing a good deal of the other experiments as well (spare for a poor faun in Vexen's care, who continued to curse his existence here in this wretched basement laboratory.)

But slowly...slowly things would come together again. With the help of Xigbar and Zexion, Vexen managed to re-trap most of the heartless, though a few that hid themselves well, got away. When they'd left and he'd cleaned the place up proper, Vexen returned to his room and the moment he'd dressed for bed, collapsed to it, and passed out all too happily. Sleep...yes...a friend missed.

Things were not looking up for Number Eleven, either. Paranoia ran deep in his mind, and the seeds of the events leading up to their last encounter had sprouted, sending deep rooted Terror in his mind, Vexen had been breaking into my room, my garden, leaving things and taking things at will. Sometimes right under my nose... He could get me at any time, drug me...

Marluxia paced in his room, then spun around, Wait... If he knows where I am then... He could have planted a tracker in my uniform! Or... I could have ingested...it..

This went on for days. While Marluxia tried to keep the mask of control on while he was out with the others, there was no hiding the fact he had stopped eating and had started to drink from the faucets, and never the same one twice. Everything had a trap in it, every noise was Vexen.

All the while his brain created ways the scientist could use his traid to overpower him, how to keep him under his control. Visions of being strapped to lab tables or locked in cages haunted him. Nights had become sleepless, his mind in utter chaos. After two weeks in terror of the scientist lurking in every shadow and... Frustration? Something had to give.

Marluxia stripped out of his coat, and left it in his garden before porting to his room so he would be away from whatever tracker Vexen had planted. He sat down slowly into his bed and covered his face with his hands. He then lifted his head, looking at the tremble that had developed in his body, Something has to be done. I need to get back in control... His eyes darted up, his heart thudding wildly in his chest, I have to face him.

Not thinking straight, he portaled into Vexen's lab, looking around wildly, "Vexen!"

The labs were dark, no sign of the scientist. Only the experiments sounded tiredly in response.

Marluxia shook his head, his eyes wild, his movements jerky. He then portaled to Number Fours room, _THERE! Sleeping... How can that bastard sleep knowing... Nnnaah!_

Like a large cat, he sprung into the air, and grabbed Vexen's hands as he landed, pinning them to the bed as the skid upwards, his back legs following behind and trapping one leg between them. His body arched away from him, his face next to the scientist ear, his lips lightly brushing the lobe as he hissed softly, his voice soft and low as he panted, "What do you want from me? What do you want?! I'm tired of waiting for the attack, so here I am. Now."

It seemed that Vexen was destined for consciousness--as Marluxia jumped him and made Vexen jump (as best he could under the other) and the mattress creak unhappily at the sudden jolt.

"W-what the--?!" He struggled, trying to twist his way out from under Marluxia, though with little progress.

"There is no attack, you fool!" Vexen hissed, squirming and glaring at the other. "U-unhand me!!" he shouted, cheeks flushed--half from the sheer surprise of it all, and half for the fact that Marluxia was so close to him!

"Then what do you WANT from me?" Marluxia's grip tightens as he frowns slightly, his eyes narrowing, "And then what the hell do you keep getting so flustered about?" He loosened his grip on the scientists wrists, relaxing slightly and glanced away, "Did Xigbar try to get into your head as well? Or..." Suddenly he looked at Vexen right in the eyes, and his grip tightened again, the sanity slowly returning to his eyes, "You were listening in when Xigbar cornered me..."

"That's none of your--" and then Marluxia caught him. Fuck. "You--knew I was..." With such wide-eyes he looked like a animal caught under a spotlight. "Well, yes--I heard a few choice things but--that's got nothing to do with--" But it did. And Vexen wasn't confessing anytime soon.

The man with the pink hair's shoulders tightened, the leg between Vexen's, straddling the thigh to keep the other man pinned, moving closer as he snarled, looking like a panther ready to strike, "What did you hear?" His grip tightened as he scooted even further up the mans thigh, trying to look larger then he was and make up for the slight height difference, no longer focused on what he had been fearing for over a week, "What did you hea-- Ah..."

A grin crossed his face, his voice soft as he smiled, "...Respect. That's why you've been hiding more so then usual, why I've been finding your experiments hiding in my room. You've been trying to get it back. Right..?"

"Never--" Vexen hissed, muscles tense and sharp green eyes narrowed. "Why in the name of-- why the hell would I need something like that from you of all-- filthy, disgusting--" The room was getting colder. No...it was freezing. "I'm leaving you alone because I don't give a damn about you!" The bed felt like a block of ice...and as Vexen continued, the element itself rose up, quickly encasing Marluxia's ankles and feet--creeping up his calves.

Vexen smirked, giving a haunting little chuckle. "In my lab, in my bed now... I've left you alone. Why can't you do the same?!"

Marluxia shivered and portaled away, the last thing being swallowed by the shadows being the smirk crossing his lips as a few stray sakura petals flutter and fade into nothing on Vexen's bed.

Marluxia was gone... The ice ebbed away, but even with the room warm again, a cold chill ran down Vexen's spine. Marluxia had been in his room, touching him, staring into him practically... He'd called Vexen out and been right. And Vexen...he hadn't been able to put up a facade, couldn't smirk, couldn't tell him he'd been completely and utterly...correct... He shuddered. Even alone, he felt completely cornered--desperate, even. What move could be make next? What could he do? Where could he go? He couldn't even bring himself to return to his lab--not now...not after all of this.

He would go...someplace...cold perhaps. Someplace he could think without distraction--without worry. It took some will to keep still and not curl up on himself. But slowly... slowly, wisps of darkness would form under him--licking upwards. He sunk down into the forming portal and out of sight.

Out of sight. Out of mind. He'd be gone for days. he had a strategy to formulate.


	4. Chapter 4

Marluxia was soon recovering from his deep freeze, shlufting off the last of the ice from his leather leggings. He worked his boots off, and inspected the damage as he soaked his feet in a bucket of hot water, wincing before leaning back, _It's odd... I feel so... Alive. What - ah.. Adrenaline high. I did just... Oh darkness no._

He covered his face with both hands, his head drooping backwards, "Mrrrg... What the heck was I thinking, confronting him in his room?"

A few days later, Marluxia poked his head around the column near Vexen's lab, looking around to make sure no one was in the area. With a quick dash, he went to the door and set down a fancy Round tin with a snowy scene on the front, the inside filled with homemade and completely harmless Christmas cookies. Making sure he was still alone, he moved to rap on the door. But before his hand could even brush the door, he paused, looking around for a camera of some sort. Seeing none, he returned to the door.

He took a deep breath and moved his hand back a little further, trying to steel himself. Then, with a huff, he portaled away, _ can find them on his own, I'm not going to risk getting caught... Especially by him.. Or Xigbar for that matter..._

Vexen discovered the tin of cookies halfway through the day, looking it over for a moment before deciding that it was harmless. He brought it in and shared the tin with his chess partner during his one and only break of the day. The remainder of the tin sat open on a counter top, next to a pile of folders.

Vexen had gotten his desired 'alone time', and had returned to acting like a frigid bitch--giving everyone the cold shoulder, and returning to quiet work in the lab. But...that had been shattered by Xemnas' demands for the annual physical of everyone in the organization. It made sense of course--the man needed to be assured that all under him wee in tip-top physical condition.

And thus...here Vexen was, ushering in Eleven, his clipboard in hand, tapping his pen against the metal clip.

His mind...was elsewhere...

_I'll tell him it's cancer. If I tell him I need to do a biopsy, he'll have to listen, and then I'll get to strap him down and cut him open and--_ Vexen chuckled, the sound more than unsettling. He checked off a few of the basics--name, date, etcetera...

_The table with the thick leather straps...I rather like that one... Yes...I'll tell him it's cancer. Or lupus. Oh... I can't decide yet!_ He twirled his pen in his fingers as he daydreaming up what he could do...

Despite keeping the usual annoyed disposition he kept around Vexen, the Graceful Assassin still looked faintly haggard from his two week "fast". Sleep had also been harder to come by then usual as he feared that his control and his sanity would slip through his fingers.

And he never did care for the physical exam.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself a little too much." Marluxia unzipped his coat and hung it over a chair by the door, and followed Vexen deeper into the lab. Memories of his nightmares flashed through his mind and he pictured himself in place of one of Vexen's larger experiments--faun who's name tag read _Tumnus_. He gulped as he walk passed the faun, refusing to look at it. "And you haven't even looked at anything yet."

"You're kept around for your fighting prowess, not your back talk." Vexen sighs, broken from his mental revelry--motioning the other to hurry up. "--now off with your shirt already. It's nothing I haven't already seen. Do recall you're eleven of thirteen--we do this numerically, and you only came in _how_ long ago?"

Marluxia clenched his jaw, counting to ten before responding, his voice dripping in sarcasm, "would you like me to do a little dance while I'm at it, Vexen?"

Marluxia moved over to the examination table as he began to unbutton the vine-decorated green silk shirt, putting on the most steady "indifferent" mask he has in his mental store, "And long enough to know you're being biased and treat me different then the others. Not a very "respectable" thing for a doctor to be doing..."

A dance? Good god. "Not unless you want to re-sterilize the entire examination area again after I vomit." Vexen replied flatly.

Vexen bristles inside, but he's learned to hold it well as of late. "--do recall I do the same to nine. It's not all because the two of you are utterly disrespectful to me and obnoxious in general, believe me." Vexen noted, drawing out a chuckle. "But you two are the only of us all that were never completely...human in you last life."

Eleven's unbuttoning faltered for a second at the mention of his not having been a true human in his past life, and then he slid it off his shoulders, letting the silk bundle just below as he leaned forwards, his voice soft and low as he smiled softly, "I wonder... I'm respectful and likeable to the others. Maybe its just you. Lets get this over with and keep it professional. Then we can go back to loathing each other."

Despite the fact that Marluxia was sex on legs, and a vicious bundle of smirking charisma to boot, Vexen seemed completely unfazed. An exam was an exam, and Marluxia was Marluxia. Neither was enjoyable. "Nine thinks you're up to no good with all that smooth talking, and Seven, while respecting your strength as a fighter, refuses to take you seriously." he remarked calmly--standing next to the other, checking his pulse at the wrist and neck.

With his head thrown back and to the side, facing away from Vexen, Marluxia waves his free hand, waiting till the Scientist was away from his neck to respond, "The smooth talking is a survival trait simply honed down to a sharp edge by a keen mind, and really... Look at me." He gives Vexen a rather bored look, "I have Pink hair and sprout flower petals with almost every action... All I'd have to do is bite my tongue to get a lisp, droop my wrist, and Prefer Men and I'd be a walking stereotype if it wasn't for the fighting."

"Well regardless of your sexual persuasion and effeminate looks--" Vexen decided not to laugh at the other's plight, no matter now sweet the taste. With stethoscope, he made a final check of pulse, listening to Marluxia's heartbeat--with the cold of the metal pressed to his skin, without the least of pity.

He never finished his train of thought.

"Hm...odd. Tell me," He set the stethoscope aside, going after the cuff to measure blood pressure, and wrapped it around Marluxia's upper arm. "Scale of one to ten--one being the most and ten the least, how calm would you say you are right now?"

Marluxia grimacing slightly and gave a soft sigh to calm himself down a little, disliking how well the Scientist could read him while in his element, "..." he gives Vexen a hard glare from the corner of his eye, "Considering you don't exactly have the best bedside manor and we have... A "history"... I will have to say about a four on the Serenity scale."

Now the look Vexen gave the other was sure to surprise. "Really? Only a four?" Could it be...concern? It certainly looked like it. He deflated the cuff and stowed it away, jotting down and few notes to his clipboard--and practically shooed the other man out of he lab. "Come back in three days. I need to confirm something, and I can't until then. So out--out already."

Marluxia slid off the counter with a sigh, shrugging his shirt back on and buttoning it up, his face an air of calm, "Fine... I could use a vacation. Want to sign me a permission slip?" Marluxia chuckled softly as he walked away, grabbing his jacket as he wondered what Vexen was up to, even though a small seedling of Worry had been planted in his mind. Suddenly he remembered something he had left by Vexen's door soon after their last encounter "By the way, did you get...? You know, never mind. Demyx likely ate them." With that, he turned and walked out the door casually.

"A vacation slip? No--just..." Something was obviously wrong with Marluxia, despite Vexen's reluctance to elaborate to the other. He hadn't even finished the exam--simply outing the other from the lab. "Out--I'll contact you shortly." It doesn't even occur to him that the cookies came from the assassin, rather than his earlier assumption of Zexion. He's focused on one thing and one thing only...

- - -

Moments later, Vexen appeared in the Superior's chambers, to exchange the information of what he'd found out thus far with the exams: Xemnas; A clean bill of health. Xigbar; a few new scars, but no worse for wear. Xaldin, himself, Lexaeus; all well... he continued down the list, hesitating only slightly when explaining Marluxia's charts.

Needless to say, the Superior was not at all pleased. Even as Vexen sought out Marluxia as promised, Xemnas' words rang loud and clear to him. "_This childishness is not at all becoming, Vexen. I've stated now and again to treat him with the respect he's has earned. But if I hear any word that either of you have been acting so juvenile again...""_

Vexen rapped on Marluxia's door, standing as straight as he could, trying not to lean in towards the quickly forming bruise on his side.

Marluxia jerked himself awake at the rapping of the door, his hands going to either side of his desk as the sheet of paper unstuck from his forehead -- A report from Larxene he had been red-lining for his "Friend" and underling, since her reports also would reflect on him, it was in his best interest to make sure they were perfect. He quickly organized it into a neat pile, "Coming..."

The door cracked open slightly and Eleven peered out, only part of his face poking through the slit of the door. A frown forms on his lips and he lets out a slow sigh before opening the door completely, holding onto it tightly with one hand, "Yes? Vexen?"

"Don't over exert yourself any time soon--I mean, eh..." Vexen wiped a trickle of blood from his split lip--leaving a faint smear of red behind on his cheek. "And don't...erh..." he looked like he was struggling for words, never quiet able to look the other in the eye. "--forget about your lesser duties until you next come by to the lab. Leave them to me. Just go back to your room and rest."

"Wha-" Marluxia's eyes tightened slightly as he took in the damage, his mouth slightly agape, "What happ..?" He shook his head, realizing that he would not get an answer from Vexen. Instead, he took a step back into his room, feeling shaken -- something had happened to Vexen, and yet the scientist was more worried about Marluxia's health, "O.. Of course. As... As you say.." His hand almost automatically lifted to his neck, gently gripping it as an echo of his past life rang in his head, almost feeling the axe fall again.

"I'll.." He cleared his throat, dropping his hand to return to his usual calm, "I'll see you then..."

Vexen completely missed the other's reaction, too caught up in his own thoughts. Vexen nodded quickly and turned, hurrying himself off. He had things to tend to after all...

- - -

Three days passed and soon Marluxia found himself outside Vexen's laboratory. He rapped his knuckles against the door, purposely focusing to keep tabs on his heartbeat and blood pressure, "I'm here like you asked."

And rather than a long wait, or hearing Vexen screaming that something had broken and that Marluxia could just WAIT--he was right at the door, opening it no less than a breath after the assassin's last word. "On time even. Thank you--this way please--" He sounded less like his snide, snippity self and more like a doctor proper. "Sit there--" Vexen motioned to the same table as before, going for the blood pressure cuff. "And if you would--since last, what have you been doing?"

The Graceful Assassin slid onto the table casualy and rolled his loose sleeves up for the cuff, "I worked on some paperwork and turned it in early to reduce stress, gardened, gave a report to the Superior as I was scheduled to do, and rested as you ordered." His voice was calm, measured. He wasn't going to give away his current mental state away easily, "Yourself?"

"You don't want to know." Vexen replieed. What had been simple age lines, half-formed under his eyes, had become darken circles. Vexen had kept up his end of the bargain. So coupled with the chores of Oblivion's 'basement' members, and his own research due for the Superior, he'd also kept up with everything Marluxia had let go for the past few days. He'd been eating less, sleeping less, and it showed. "Just as I thought..." Deflating the cuff, he stowed it back to proper place and shook his head. "Your blood pressure is elevated--much more than it should be with what you're doing..."

A soft noise escaped his throat, his facial expression unchanging, as he smoothed his sleeves down "I haven't been sleeping well if it means anything." He frowned slightly as he glanced around the lab in curiousity, pretending not to care, "You didn't hav... Nn." He closed his eyes and stood up from the table, "Listen. I don't handle... I'm not very G-." He shook his head, teeth gritted as he looked up to look Vexen in the eyes, his words unnaturally awkward and broken, "About... That time.. A week or two ago when... I was on edge because of... Something Xigbar had said. About you. I snapped and broke one of my own rules when I confronted you that night. It. It was a miscalcuation." His eyes tightened slightly and he turned to pick his coat up, "if there's nothing else you need..."

Vexen stepped aside to rummage through a cabinet--filing through a set of bottles, all filled with various things. He could tell Marluxia he'd heard more than enough of Xigbar's little speech. He wouldn't give him enough to confirm or deny the suspicions that the freeshooter had planted. But Marluxia's words...while he could not make out if the other's words were meant as an apology or otherwise, Vexen turned back to him and passed him a small bottle filled with a faintly orange liquid. "Tea spoon after every meal. It should help. The Superior...ah..." He glanced aside, forcing the bottle into the other's hands. "--values you. I can't let you have stress kill you off."

Marluxia frowned at the orange liquid and looked into it as if trying to figure out what was inside of it, "I could make myself something as well. I'm not as useless at remedies as you might think." He slid the bottle into his pocket despite his protests, and met Vexen's eyes, "... You should... Nn. I'll be... Taking my duties back now. If you have nothing else to do, go take a break. You look like you're going to keel over any second -- I'm the one with the high blood pressure, remember?" He chuckled and slid into his coat, zipping it up.

"I check my own every day, so don't even try that with me. I'm running on coffee and vitamins supplements right now--so while I could use a few hours, I'm doing just..." and he wobbled, vision going grey for a moment, knees going weak. "I'm--" Vexen straightened up, trying to shake the feeling off. "--I'm just..." His knees buckled and everything blacked out...

Quick to respond, Marluxia caught Vexen. He let out a small 'umph' as he took the man's weight, surprized at the weight and muscle the frail looking man had. He stood there awkwardly trying to get Vexen to stand up, looking around for someplace to put him,

"Well... This is.. Awkward." He draped one of Vexen's arms over his shoulder and portaled them both into Vexen's room. He grunted softly, dragging the larger man to the bed, setting him down and putting his legs up. He then turned to leave and spun quickly back, rubbing his forhead, "Where do I GO about this? I don't know how to get your clones to... Work." He didn't expect a responce, but approached the bed again, crouched as if expecting the man to transform into a bomb of some sort, "If you wake up and attack me I swear..." He unzipped the collar slightly to give the man more air, and then gently touched his neck to search for a pulse.

The man was down, but not completely out. He was still _alive_ at least--just...unconscious. His pulse remained nice and strong, though he'd been nothing but dead weight in Marluxia's arms. Vexen was simply suffering from over-exhaustion. It seemed that even the scientist had his limits... Locked up working, only leaving to work on Marluxia's abandoned tasks, there was no one to take him aside and beat sense into him that YES he needed to eat dinner, and YES, a nap or five might be appropriate.

Relaxing slightly, Marluxia pulled his hand away from Four's neck, "... Idiot." He shook a finger at Vexen's still form, "You... Ugh." He double checks to make sure Vexen really was asleep, he carefully slipped the mans Boots off, putting the pillow under his head and pulling a blanket across. With a moment of thought, he quickly tucked it in, trapping the mans arms underniegth, "can't have you attacking before I finish what needs to be done.." Double checking the taughtness of the tuck, he portalled away. After about thirty minutes, he returned, checking on the Frost-wielder, then set a cooler filled with food on his nightstand.

"Don't say I've never done anything for you..." Eleven started to untrap Vexen, working quickly and backing up quickly, half expecting a violent attack, "And now... The waiting game..." He set up two, small sensors on either side of the bed, targeted just above Vexen's head -- as soon as the man woke up and moved up, Marluxia would know.

Marluxia would indeed find out...

Three hours later, Vexen had turned onto his side, curled up tightly under the covers. For the man who's cold lab kept him cool to to touch, he was now unbearably hot--skin flushed and breath uneven. His sleep was interrupted and his consciousness was far from whole. He woke often, but never found he strength to even sit up.

The minutes ticked away, and Marluxia portaled into the room with the clicking sound of the plastic teeth of a waterbottle's seal breaking. He stood at Vexen's back, his voice soft, "I have water for you. It's cold..." He walked slowly around the bed, making sure his boot steps were loud enough that, if Vexen was awake he could track his movements, but soft enough to not awaken him should he be sleeping. Marluxia worked with the paper cover off a long plastic bendy straw and paused to see if Vexen was awake as he gained a look into Vexen's face, "Hmmn?"

Vexen didn't move much, spare forwhen he pulled the covers more tightly around him. The man shivered--which was odd, as he was giving off a good deal of heat. It was a fever--the price paid for the last week's stress. He blinked slowly at the other's words, looking a little confused. "I...can't be here..." Vexen murmured, trying to shove the covers off. "I...I've got work to do..."

Marluxia's free hand settled onto Vexen's shoulder and grabbed the blanket, pulling it up further, his voice firm, "Rest. Get some fluids, as well. You're sick and it won't do you any good to go into your lab and contaminate everything as you get worse." He bent over slightly, getting closer and moving the bottle close enough that the straw brushed Vexen's lips, "I'm not the only one with a value, you know. I may not be able to do your work for you, but I can see if I can convince the others to move your deadlines back. Its better they come in later then not at all."

Quite unaware the other was trying to help, Vexen grumbled most unhappily, jerking hard enough to kick off his covers, rolling over onto his other side--sprawling out. And though Marluxia had helped the man out of his boots, he'd left the man in his coat. His _leather_ coat. Vexen might 'sweat it out' faster, but it certainly wouldn't be very fun. As well, come morning, he'd probably smell a bit funky as well. "I don't feel well..." he groused, arms wrapping around a pillow.

Marluxia sighed softly, setting the drink down, "You're sick. Which is why you don't feel well..." He walked around so he could see Vexen's face, "You need to get out of that coat... I.. I didn't think it would be welcome for me to do it for you earlier, but you need bedrest before things get worse. And you CAN'T be comfortable in that." Eleven gripped Vexen's shoulder, "I'll feed your experiments. Now Go. To. Sleep!"

"Z...zexion will worry..." Vexen murmured, looking downright pathetic--enhausted, sick, and just...oh god...puppy eyes. Sad. Green. -Puppy Eyes-. "Don't tell him..." he coughed twice and swallowed, making a pained expression. "And--" He snagged a loose hold on Marluxia's sleeve. "T...thank you."

Marluxia froze, struck still by the pleading green eyes, "I... I... I won't tell him. I'll.. Well, I'll say your away collecting specimens for your tests. If he asks..." He swallowed, looking away from the pitiful look, obviously not used to anyone thank him in a situation he wasn't in control of, "I left you food and water in the cooler... And There might be some chicken soup I can heat up if... You need.. It. INeedToGo, I'll be back in an hour or so.." With that, he portaled away, uncomfortable with just how helpless his rival was in this state...


	5. Chapter 5

True to his word, Number Eleven soon found himself alone in Vexen's lab, pushing around a cart of food for the experiments -- it had been surprisingly easy to figure out what went where and how to prepare it for each one of the creatures and beings because of how the built-in kitchen of the lab was organized, the times for feeding, recipes, and ways to feed them were all listed out in on the door of the walk in fridge, and every ingredient and pre-made meal labeled with numbers matching up with the cages.

There were a few hitches, such as when one of the more harmless looking of subjects, a fluffy ball of fur, turned out to have a rather nasty set of teeth in a mouth that dominated its small body. Marluxia had to struggle with it for almost ten minutes to free his arm and the tray of food he had prepared for it.

He rubbed his arm as he arrived at the last of the experiments, a faun locked in a cage...

For the faun, there was little to do without anyone to talk to. He had long given up on attempting conversation with any of the other experiments--he never got much back if anything. That being...if you could count grunts and howls as conversation to begin with... So he sat up against the wall of his enclosure that rested against the wall, biding his time and humming quietly to himself. If anything, it helped mask the sounds of his grumbling stomach. He was a pessimistic optimist, the faun. He knew things were bad, and probably knew they wouldn't get any better, but he tried to make the most of things regardless. It was one of his more endearing traits.

Vexen had long missed feeding time today--as well as their usual chess match (though it seemed the man had been skipping those altogether for the past couple of days). So after his humming tune had become more than stale, he resigned himself to sit at the front of the barred-off home, watching for any signs of life.

--and lo-and-belond! Marluxia!

Stepping forward, Marluxia looked at the lid of the meal, which had a name to it as well as a cage number, "Tumnus is it?" He slid the meal through the slot near the bottom of the cage, glancing back to chess board on the bottom rack of his cart as he started to pour the tea that was actually listed as part of the meal requirements for the faun, his expression reserved, "I didn't know Vexen played Chess as well... Though, it.. Makes sense, I guess..."

"You're new." the faun blinked as he watched the pink haired man. "I'm Tumnus...but has Vexen sent you? He's usually quite...punctual with things. Has something happened?"

"Mmm..." His ears twitched as he watched the other set up. "He must be sick. I told him it wasn't healthy to work like he was--but he never listens." He shook his head, giving a soft sigh.

"I'm... I'm Marluxia, Mr Tumnus." Eleven nodded slightly, glancing away, "Vexen needed to take some leave time, but I am not at liberty to tell anyone why. His request." He found a clock at the side of the wall, realizing he still had some time before needing to check on Vexen and make sure he had gotten out of his coat alright. Fidgeting slightly, he eventually moved a spare chair closer to the faun, hoping for a distraction, "So... Care for a game of chess?"

He set the board up between the two of them, and then smiled, "Which color do you want first?"

Up against the bars, Tumnus put a hand through, pointing. "And I'll take the red, please. They match my scarf." There was no scarf to be seen. Perhaps it was delusional?

Outside of the occasional Vexen replica, or perhaps Lexaeus, Tumnus had never seen another Nobody before, so this was all quite new to him.

"You smell like roses..." he went quiet for a moment, thinking. "He talks about you a lot, you know--Vexen, that is." Food is food, and the difference between hot and cold food in the lab isn't much. But hot tea was only hot for so long, and conversation was only conversation when others were around. You had to take things as they came, and that was precisely what he was doing.

Marluxia swore under his breath, "Yes, I know -- I haven't found a way that works to cover that yet..." He turned the board so the red pieces faced Tumnus and moved it closer so he could reach. He then took the tea cup up and, reading the instructions, added the extras the faun enjoyed so much before passing it to him, wondering why he was not eating the food given to him, "And don't tell anyone that, if they show up here, not even Vexen. He'd assume I told you. But yes. He's sick, but the story is he's away looking for some new experiments."

Moving his piece, his eyes lift to meet that of the faun, "And about me, really? A lot of complaining and name calling, I gather."

Tumnus gave a nod, moving a knight across the board. "Bad things, sometimes, but others it's just personal complaints towards himself." he nodded, taking a sip of his tea. "He worries about what people think of him. His priorities are a bit skewed, so it's hard for him to juggle work and social...things. He's an odd one." he said and nodded again, in agreement to his own statement.

Tumnus considers his moves quickly, moving pieces with the precision like he's been doing this for years. Which he has, bless his furry little soul.

Marluxia moves a pawn with only a glance at his move, still watching Tumnus more then the board; despite the game being his suggestion, his mind was elsewhere, "Hmmn. Well, I've tried helping him with that problem, but it ended up with a lot of yelling." He rubs his jaw, glancing down at the board, "He's a fantastic biologist, but he knows very little about people and how to handle them."

Chuckling, Number Eleven closed his eyes, "Its hard to relate to someone who seems to make an honest effort at making himself unlikeable." The memory of looking in the mirror and seeing just how insane he looked after the chair incident flashed in his brain, and Marluxia frowns slightly, "Though, everyone has their own faults..."

"He tries with work, not word." Tumnus said, glancing up to his new chess companion. The faun was a bit skittish in action, but otherwise, calm. He'd learned quickly that unless it attacked flat out, it generally was not out to get you. "He's said before--mostly talking to himself--he wants recognition for his work. But working nonstop without letting others get in a word edgewise...isn't very smart is it?"

"Especially if he snaps at those who come to see the work, and see him." Moving a knight, Marluxia touches his fingertips together, feeling himself relax as he enjoyed the familiar click and movement of the figures on the checkered board, "Recognition for work only happens if the work and effort is seen. While we sometimes see the final result, anyone wishing to see the effort, unless its the superior, gets nothing but snapped at and the risk of losing our fingers, toes, and lips to frostbite."

Marluxia's eyes lowered in thought as he leaned back, "What he's doing isn't good for his health..."

"He told me once that people without hearts cannot feel... But I've seen him so full of emotion before. He gets so wrapped up in things, he certainly can't be faking them. So really...I don't understand. Do you...or do you not have them?"

The faun gives a heavy sigh, moving a rook along. While he could not rightly bring himself to worry for the mind that so easily brought torment to the faun, Tumnus could certain feel for the body put under such stresses. "Another case of good plan, poor execution. You all aught to find your missing hearts soon. I'm not sure how it all works, but I'm sure he'd be better off with his back. Though..." he made a thoughtful expression, looking over to Marluxia with a mix of confusion and curiosity.

Marluxia captures one of Tumnus' pieces, his expression flat, "We can still remember what it was like to have hearts, to have emotion. We're creatures of habit, I suppose. I'm sure it fades and goes away as time passes, or becomes harder to react with the proper emotional response..." He smiles slightly, glancing at the cup of tea, "Do you enjoy that sort of tea? I haven't been able to stomach it since I learned how to dry my own leaves. The bag kind always seems... Weak." He returns his attention to the board, "I'll try to bring some next time."

"I haven't had anything different from this since I arrived." Tumnus replies, contently finishing off his cup. He held it out, awaiting a second helping. "Vexen seems to prefer coffee, so I suppose I should be thankful that I get this much--which I am--oh, I am. He's quite nice once you get past the needles and pointy things. He's nice enough to put me to sleep for most of the experiments as well." Tumnus chuckled, snagging one of Marluxia's knights.

Marluxia chuckles, quickly capturing yet another piece, "I'll bring it with the next feeding then." the Assassin then poured another serving into Tumnus' glass, quickly preparing it to the faun's tastes, "Thats... An unusual version of being "not too bad" but I guess in the situation..."

Marluxia swallows, suddenly uncomfortable at the thought of being the one in Tumnus' place -- as Vexen had said himself, Marluxia is one of the two Members that was not human in his past life. If he didn't get killed then, it really could have been him in the cage instead of the faun. He shivered slightly, but quickly covered it, "Do you get cold in this lab?"

"Cold?" The faun tilted his head to the side. "Well, I suppose. It's always a bit chilly, but you get used to it after a while. I did." he nodded, taking down a bishop. "You're very good at this..." Tumnus noted, changing the subject quite efficiently. "Vexen is only so good at it--but you're much better. Perhaps we can play more often? Would that be too troubling?" he asked, smiling. "If it is, it's not a big deal at all, it's just something new. Vexen says new things excite me far too much, but I'm not sure he realizes how mundane things around here become when you can't leave."

Marluxia captures another piece, his eyes now on the game -- He had not been paying attention earlier, and he could see the opening flaws in his game, and his eyes darted across the board as he formulated a way to clean up his act, a hand crossing against his bottom lip, "Your good as well. We will definitely need to play again, it's been a while since I've had an actual challenge. I could also bring you a few games that do not require someone to help with the monotony.. You might enjoy them." He smiles slightly, puffing softly from his nose, "And Vexen doesn't get excited enough about new things. You'd think a scientist would be more Interested in discovery. But then, we have no hearts, no spark. I guess the drive to learn beyond what you already know and understand is one of the things lost and only mimicked... Five moves."

Tumnus looked to the board and gave a soft frown, blinking. "Four actually--" he corrected. "I can't believe I left myself open like that..." he shook his head, trying to find a way out of the corner he'd back himself into. "Ah--" and a move. "Seven now, in my favor if you can spot it!" he chuckled, leaving behind any remnant in the conversation of Vexen.

Nibbling lightly on the side of one finger, Marluxia's eyes scan the board, one corner of his lips brought up in a slight smirk, "Hmm, yes. You actually have a very nice advant-ah. Weak spot."

Marluxia moves deftly, capturing the offending piece and bringing them back to a state of neither having the advantage, despite having lost his own by the faun's move. He covered his mouth again, eyes scanning the board quickly, a sort of mad glee flickering like a flame behind them, "Anyman's game... It's been a while..."

Tumnus gave a quiet laugh and a sweet smile, honestly enjoying their exchange of word and game. "You're too good at this! We really ought to have another game another day! But, ah..." he moves a rook, biting his lower lip, instantly regretting the move he's made. "--what about Vexen? If he's ill, should he really be left unattended for so long?"

Marluxia hums softly as he takes advantage of the sudden weakness, "Hmm?" He glanced at the clock and swore softly, "Time goes far too fast when one is enjoying themselves..." He reaches a hand out to Tumnus to shake as he stood, his face peaceful and calm, "I'll see you again soon. I guess this game will have to wait for another time. Lets just call it a draw."

Over already? They hadn't even finished!

Tumnus made a sad little face at the thought of his head friend leaving so suddenly, but at the idea of an honest-to-goodness return made him grin again. "Of course--until then!" he nodded, shaking Marluxia's hand with a nice firm grip. As the pink-haired man turned to leave, it left Tumnus the opportunity to return to his cooling food. A good meal, good tea, and an excellent game of chess--! He couldn't possible ask for anything more!

Marluxia paused as he headed out, "I remembered the layout of the board... Maybe we can continue it from here before we start another game next time.." With that he was gone.

- - -

A few minutes passed and he entered Vexen's bedroom to make sure the man was doing alright and sleeping well. He approached the bed carefully, sliding a glove off to test the mans forehead, lightly setting his hand on number Four's skin.

Vexen had rid himself of his heavy leather coat, but twisted up in the covers, he was far from cool. Still flushed, his skin was hot to the touch. Definitely a fever, he was at least topping a hundred and two degrees. "Marluxia..." he blinked sleepily, turning onto his back, groaning quietly as the vertigo crept over him from the small movement. "H-how long was I sleeping? I can't afford a break...v'got to...work..." He obviously wasn't going to be doing anything aside from rest for quite some time.

Marluxia sighs softly and begins work at untangling the covers, "You've been sleeping for "Not long enough", Vexen. Your... Very sick -- continue like this and you will only get the rest of us ill and none of us would be able to do our jobs." Finally getting the blankets untwisted, he tucks number four back in, then takes up the water again, pressing the straw against Vexen's lips, holding it steady with the other hand, "Drink. If you don't want to be away from your work for long, you should rest up a lot and get better quicker, rather then work sick and destroy it all. Just Eat, sleep, drink plenty of liquids, and maybe take a hot shower or two. Thats all you need to do for now."

Vexen drinks very little, taking a sip and groaning, curling back up into his side, looking utterly miserable. He coughed and tucked up tight, clutching a pillow to his chest. "Ugh...if...if you're going to go, at least leave a wastebasket next to the bed..." Vexen mumbled, a little green in the face. "That last meal...I don't know if I can keep it down..."

Marluxia reaches into his pocket, taking out a small, hand marked bottle. Cracking it open, he pours the contents into a small plastic medicine cup, "This should help with the nausea and help you relax -- Tastes minty." Setting it down where Vexen could reach it easily and take it on his own accord, Eleven moves to grab the requested bucket, setting it down by the bed, "I'll be sitting in the chair over there. If you need anything just ask... Now take your medication and get some sleep."

--wham! It was hit and run! Vexen grabbed up and knocked down the contents of the cup faster than Xigbar downed booze. Which needless to say, was very quickly. Once emptied, his grip loosened on the cup, and it rolled off the edge of the bed, bouncing once as it hit the floor. Five minutes later, Vexen was in a dead sleep--still burning hot.


End file.
